FATED

The days in the City of Embroidery the string flutes are scattered,

half into the river wind, half through the clouds.

This song can actually only exist in heaven,

how many times on earth can humans listen?¹

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King Avram sat on his majestic throne. He was turning seventy this year. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes dark with intoxication. The Western Palace was a never-ending feast. The officials vied for their own enrichment, ignoring the plight of the people. Like their king, all they knew was partying.

A witch’s prediction several years ago shook the world. King Avram was very happy to know that one of the chosen children would be born in his kingdom.

King Avram proudly introduced his grandson to the world, naming him after the late founding king of the Western Kingdom—Maximus Bright Avitus.

The birth of Maximus and the witch’s prophecy filled King Avram with ambition. Avram aspired to conquer the surrounding kingdoms and establish himself as Emperor.

This year, Maximus is five years old. King Avram who was already half drunk suddenly raised one hand high after a royal advisor whispered, reporting something to him.

King Avram’s mood changed rapidly. The joy in the Pleasure Hall evaporated, replaced by gloom. Everyone in the room immediately bowed as Avram rose from his chair. Shaking his robes, he descended the steps to the dance floor. Avram continued walking, passing the invited guests who were still bowing in respect. The party ended with the departure of their king, who was now hurrying towards the White Palace.

Several of the ladies-in-waiting looked frightened as King Avram arrived. They immediately bowed their heads in respect, welcoming the king.

Avram’s expression was unreadable as one of his guards opened the tightly closed wooden double doors. Avram hurried in, his eyes gleaming with anger as he found Maximus’s body sprawled on the floor of the Crown Princess’s chamber.

Avram wordlessly ordered one of his guards to take Maximus from the room. A dagger was lodged in his left chest. General Leon lifted the little prince’s body and immediately took him to the Palace of the Sun.

“How dare you hurt my grandson!” Avram’s voice was heavy and menacing. His sharp eyes never left the Crown Princess’s seemingly ordinary face. The twenty-five-year-old woman showed no remorse for what she had done to Maximus. “Are you deliberately seeking death?”

The Crown Princess smiled sarcastically. Her clear eyes boldly stared back at the king. “I do intend to die, but with that jinxed child.” The Crown Princess displayed her determination. She had long wanted to kill Maximus. Unlike Avram, the witch’s prophecy terrified her. She couldn’t imagine how much damage Maximus would cause in the future.

King Avram separated the Crown Princess from Maximus since the Middle Witch’s prophecy stated that his grandson would be one of the chosen children. From that day on, Maximus was under the care and supervision of King Avram. Maximus’s strict upbringing made the Crown Princess even more afraid. She feared her son would turn into a monster like King Avram. The Crown Princess also hated the fact that her son’s Destiny Mate was the child of her archenemy—the woman who was the first love of Crown Prince Takvor, her husband.

“Maximus must die,” the Crown Princess said expressionlessly. “He will definitely die.” Her smile widened. The Crown Princess was truly satisfied.

However, King Avram, to his surprise, laughed out loud. He pointed at the Crown Princess with a mocking expression. “You think you can kill Maximus that easily?” he asked. Avram cocked his head to one side.

Outside, it was snowing heavily. The air becomes warmer because of it. The sound of crackling wood came from the fireplace. The light of the lantern flickered, illuminating the Crown Princess’s room.

“You think you can kill Maximus with the poison on that knife?” Avram chuckled again after speaking. He was pleased to see the change in his daughter-in-law’s expression. The Crown Princess turned pale. Her once-high confidence slowly evaporated without a trace.

Avram whispered, but it was still clear enough for the Crown Princess to hear. “Maximus is immune to poison,” he said. The Crown Princess’s eyes widened in disbelief. Avram raised one eyebrow. “Do you think I’m lying?”

Silence reigned.

Shaking his head, Avram waved a hand in the air. “Maximus is already familiar with poison. As the future Emperor, I must prepare him carefully.”

“Bastard!”

“I call that clever.” Avram tapped the side of his forehead with a smile. In an instant, his expression turned vicious. “And I don’t need a whore like you by his side.” Avram opened one palm. His eyes never left the Crown Princess’s face.

A soldier took the king’s sword from its sheath before handing it over to Avram’s right hand.

It was strange, actually, that the Crown Princess felt no fear as King Avram approached with his sword in hand. She was ready to die, but something was nagging at her heart. What if Maximus survived?

Unfortunately, that thought was interrupted when King Avram’s sword cut her beautiful neck to pieces on a snowy night.

Meanwhile, the royal physicians worked tirelessly to treat Prince Maximus. Their hearts were filled with fear. King Avram would not let them go if something bad happened to his beloved grandson. Furthermore, the physicians would have no place to return to, as the people of the Western Empire deeply loved Prince Maximus, whom they considered a bringer of good fortune.

“How?” King Avram returned to his home carefree. Blood splashed across the front of his clothes.

King Avram continued, “You will all die if you cannot save Maximus.”

Hearing those words, the five healers trembled. They worked hard all night to ensure the king’s beloved grandson continued to breathe.

King Avram stayed awake all night. Before dawn, a soldier from the border reported that Prince Takvor’s forces had successfully captured the Faroese Kingdom’s Southern Defense Fortress.

The king’s laughter echoed through the black and gold-hued room. His long legs made their way to the large, curtainless window. The snow that had fallen overnight had left a blanket of white as far as the eye could see. Dozens of court ladies and male servants were already working to clear the snow from the courtyard of the Sun Palace.

“Your Majesty, Prince Maximus has regained consciousness,” a physician in his fifties reported with relief. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

Avram didn’t turn around. His hands were behind his back. “What about the poison in his body?”

“Answering Your Majesty, the poison in Prince Maximus’s body was successfully dissolved by the antidote.”

“So?”

Maybe it was just the physician’s feeling, but he felt that King Avram didn’t like the report he gave.

King Avram said, “I want to receive hourly reports on Prince Maximus’ progress until his condition stabilizes.”

“I accept orders.”

After that, King Avram waved his hand, ordering the healer to leave.

Silence reigned in the room for a moment. Avram’s sharp eyes stared at the distant sky. “Leon?” he called. Not long after, the general hurried into the room.

“Your Majesty, you summoned my servant?”

Avram remained standing where he was. “Maxmius still needs an antidote to remove the poison.”

He paused for a moment. “It seems the poison we injected into Maximus wasn’t enough to counteract the other poisons that entered his bloodstream.”

General Leon listened intently.

“Inject another poison into his body periodically. I want to see how long Maximus can last?” said King Avram, smiling coldly.

Maximus felt excruciating pain in his body. At a relatively young age, Maximus wasn’t allowed to cry when he was hurt or grieve when his heart was broken.

Unlike other children his age, Maximus endured the pain of the poison he had deliberately injected into his body. Sometimes, he would defecate because he couldn’t stand the pain. Upon learning of his mother’s death, Maximus fought the pain by crawling across the bedroom floor toward the tightly closed door.

Maximus’ mouth called King Avram’s name, hoarsely. He kept calling, begging for permission to see his mother’s body one last time.

Maximus’s body jerked as the door to his room was suddenly opened from the outside. The figure of King Avram stood, towering over little Maximus, who was still crawling on the floor, covered in dirt and reeking of urine.

King Avram’s eyes remained unblinking as he stared back at his grandson. “Your mother is dead,” he said expressionlessly. “She only wanted to kill you, so why did you go to her?”

Maximus didn’t understand what his grandfather meant?

Leaning forward, King Avram seemed unfazed by the stench emanating from his grandson. “Don’t you understand?”

Maximus shook his head.

King Avram straightened himself and asked General Leon for a small rattan stick. Without blinking, King Avram delivered several lashes to Maximus’s back. “This is punishment for being stupid,” he said. King Avram remained calm after delivering ten blows to Maximus’s back, which elicited no reaction. “Your mother wants you dead. She hates you. Now do you understand?”

Maximus nodded slowly.

“Good,” Avram said. “You don’t need to care about anyone, Maximus. As the future Emperor, you’re destined for loneliness. Get that into your head!”

Information :

1.For Huaqing, Du Fu (712 – 770, Tang Dynasty). Adapted from the book Anthology of Classical Chinese Poetry, translated by Zhou Fuyuan